Time-Out
by Sandrine Shaw
Summary: Central City Bank, a busy morning right before the weekly money transport was due, Captain Cold mingling with the customers... It wasn't hard to do the math, and Barry really didn't like the sum of that particular equation. [For Day 2 of Coldflash Week April 2018: Hostage Situation.]


**Time-Out**  
by Sandrine Shaw

Barry knew his day was going to go downhill the second he spotted Leonard Snart waiting in the queue up front. Central City Bank, a busy morning right before the weekly money transport was due, Captain Cold mingling with the customers... It wasn't hard to do the math, and Barry really didn't like the sum of that particular equation.

He groaned and pushed through the waiting clients, ignoring their protests as he sidled up to Snart. He must have seen Barry coming because he didn't startle, and the amused expression he fixed Barry with seemed a little too calculated.

"Cutting the queue? Not very heroic. Where are your manners, Barry?"

Barry ground his teeth and pulled Snart out of the queue with an apologetic smile for the people in line behind them. A middle-aged woman with a little girl on her hand leveled a disapproving glare at him, clearly not appeased.

Snart gave the hand on his arm a pointed look, that threatening 'let me go or else' gleam in his eyes – but what was he going to do if he didn't want to risk raising a fuss? Barry told himself that he let his touch linger a fraction longer than necessary out of spite and not because the way the muscles shifted beneath the thin leather jacket felt distractingly good under his fingers. He didn't have a thing for Snart's arms, they were just... really nice, okay?

Perhaps he shouldn't have run errands on his free day before having a coffee, if he was too sleepy to stop himself from feeling up his villains. He hastily dropped his hand and hoped the glare of the sunlight through the window was bright enough that Snart wouldn't notice the flush on his cheeks.

He really wasn't awake enough to handle this now. "Look, Snart, can we not do this today? I haven't even had breakfast yet. I'm really not in the mood."

"Hmm." Snart pretended to mull Barry's question over with a theatric flair that made Barry roll his eyes. "Depends. What exactly is it we're not supposed to be doing today? Because I gotta say, Scarlet, you're sending out some mixed signals here."

Barry pulled a grimace and let Snart have that one. It's not like he was entirely wrong. "Yeah, no, I mean the bank robbery thing." Barry lowered his voice so they wouldn't be overheard. Having a trigger-happy guard pull a gun on them was about the last thing he wanted.

The curl of Snart's lip was as sardonic as it was distracting. It seemed like everything about Snart was distracting today, from the frosty blue of his eyes measuring Barry up to the way he looked in civilian attire, without the usual parka to hide under. Barry wondered if it was just his tiredness making him less immune to Snart's bad boy charms or rather the novelty of facing the other man in broad daylight. He certainly looked different in the sun-flooded bank lobby – out of place away from bright neon glares and dark alleys, and yet less harsh, more approachable. Less like the terrible idea Barry knew he was.

"Don't know about you, but me, I'm just here to cash a couple of checks and access my safety deposit box."

At Barry's look of disbelief, Snart reached inside his jacket.

Barry should probably have been wary about Snart grabbing some kind of weapon, but it wasn't like he could have hidden the Cold Gun underneath the tight fit of the leather jacket, and in any case, Barry would be fast enough to stop him if he tried anything. But all Snart produced were a few slips of paper that he waved at Barry. Checks. In _his real name_. Which seemed like an epically bad idea, unless Snart wanted to spend the night (a few nights, probably, but not too many if his history was anything to go by) in Iron Heights.

Barry pulled Snart further away from the crowd, stealing furtive glances around to see if anyone was listening.

"You're a wanted felon," he hissed. "How can you just walk into a bank and expect them not to call CCPD as soon as they see your name?"

Snart didn't seem too fussed, waving away Barry's concerns with a flourishing gesture. "It's amazing how bank managers are willing to overlook those little details when you let them handle a certain amount of money."

"But that's — " Barry bit off the _illegal_ , well aware how naive it would sound. He shook his head. "I should probably change banks," he muttered under his breath.

Snart laughed. "Good luck finding one that's not fostering some very profitable ties to a few less-than-legit organizations. Did you know that the Santini family is National Bank's wealthiest client? Trust me, Barry, if I were to rob a bank – not that I'm saying I have any plans to that effect, mind – they'd be my first pick."

Barry wanted to make a quip about how that information was the opposite of reassuring, but it wasn't quite true. Sure, maybe he would find himself facing Captain Cold at National Bank in a few weeks, but for now, he believed that Snart's intentions today were innocuous. He shook his head. "Just promise me you won't hit them during opening times. There's too much that can go wrong with hostage situations."

He chose to interpret the way Snart inclined his head as agreement.

"Now Barry," Snart began, "if that's alright with you, I'll return to —"

He didn't get any further because there was a dull thud from the direction of the door and a woman raised her voice over the flurry of conversation and noise. "Alright, everyone, I'm sure you've all watched enough movies to know how it goes. Everyone stay exactly where they are, hands where I can see them."

Barry twisted around to find a tall, dark-haired woman in the middle of the lobby. The two guards at the door were down – knocked out, Barry hoped. Neither of them showed any visible signs of injury, though he couldn't be sure from where he was standing.

"Congratulations," Snart deadpanned. "You jinxed it."

Before Barry could protest that none of this was even remotely his fault, that all he'd done was foolishly believe he could knock a few things off his to-do list before breakfast and that getting in the middle of a bank robbery had decidedly not been in his plans for the day, a large man with angry red blotches on his cheeks stepped out of his queue.

"What the hell is this supposed to be?" he yelled at the bank robber.

She extended her arm in his direction and snapped her fingers, and just like that, he crumpled to the floor in a heap, eyes closed, limbs bent at an awkward angle.

He wasn't moving.

Barry tensed. Around him, people started screaming. He could hear Snart draw in a sharp breath behind him.

"Oh, calm down, guys," the meta huffed. "He's not dead, just asleep for a day or two. Now, unless any of you decide you need a little time-out too, just do what I say and this will be over before you know it and you can all go about your boring lives."

She looked around the room with an expectant expression, like she was only waiting for someone else to challenge her. The whole thing was starting to feel very familiar. Barry wished that just once, someone would use their powers for legal purposes. The meta – a little voice at the back of Barry's head that sounded too much like Cisco perked up to note that _Time-Out_ would in fact be the perfect name for her – could easily have chosen to work with insomniacs or with the anesthesia department at the hospital, but she had opted to go for robbery instead. It would certainly sway the general public's opinion towards meta humans for the better if most of them weren't criminals.

"Now, where were we?" With a sugary-sweet smile on her cherry-red lips, Time-Out turned to the wide-eyed woman at one of the counters. "You over there! Will you be a dear and bring me my money? Today's transport is a little different from what you're used to."

Barry wondered if he could risk running out of the bank and returning as the Flash. Everyone seemed to be distracted enough for the time being that they probably wouldn't notice him flashing away. Lightning was buzzing under his skin, and he was ready to reach for the Speed Force when a hand clamped down on his wrist like a shackle.

"What?" He turned back to Snart with a frown.

Had he been standing this close before?

Snart's fingers tightened for a second, the touch oddly comforting even when Barry knew it was probably supposed to be a warning. He instantly missed it when Snart let go.

His voice dropped to a low, gravelly whisper. "There are twenty-nine people in the room, not counting the two guards and sleeping beauty over there, who were affected by a meta whose power we know nothing about. Maybe they're out, maybe not. At least one more guard's down in the vault, more likely two. You really think you get to zip out of here without anyone noticing? And even if you managed not to be seen, you'd still be caught on camera." He motioned toward the ceiling. "Six of those. And we're not anywhere near their blind spots."

Barry blinked. That was... some freakishly detailed information.

"You _were_ casing the bank." Barry felt at once validated and outraged, but Snart only rolled his eyes at him, brushing off the accusation.

"I wasn't. I'm observant. You should give it a try, then maybe half the town wouldn't know about your _speeding_ habit."

"I can't do _nothing_ ," Barry argued back hotly. He wouldn't be much of a hero if he just stood by and watched someone rob his bank while he was in the room and let them get away.

"Hey, fellas," the meta called out.

It took Barry a moment to realize she was addressing him and Snart, and by then she was already coming over. "Not that I don't think your flirting is cute and all, but how about you zip it up? Unless you wanna take a nap?"

Snart wouldn't have been Snart if he didn't have a quick quip ready. "I don't think so. Not a fan of power naps. And I already had my beauty sleep today."

The smile he gave her was as cool as a blast from the Cold Gun, and Barry recognized it from his early clashes with Cold. It was odd – he'd never noticed how much Snart's entire demeanor towards him had thawed over the course of their complicated history until now that Barry got to witness him facing down someone else.

While Snart and Time-Out were staring each other down, too many things happened at once: Out of the corner of his eye, Barry saw a young, nervous-looking guy with a goatee pull a gun from his waistband. The girl from before whose mother had been annoyed by Barry cutting the line started crying. Time-Out turned towards her and raised her arm. Snart stepped forward. The nervous kid pulled the trigger.

Time slowed to a crawl.

Barry watched the bullet approach in slow motion. Time-Out had already shifted so far to the side that it would miss her. It was Snart who was right in its trajectory.

Barry could have picked the bullet out of the air before it would reach them, but not without flashing around Time-Out and Snart and almost certainly revealing his identity now that every pair of eyes in the room was turned in their direction.

He considered it as the nanoseconds ticked away and the bullet inched closer. His own heartbeat was loud and fast in his ears, the buzz of lightning electric against his skin. There was a better option, he realized, one that let him save Snart without compromising himself. He used his speed to tackle the other man, pulling him down to the floor and out of the bullet's way.

It soared over their heads, so close that Barry could feel it singe a strand of his hair as time resumed at its normal speed.

Snart's head made a dull noise as he hit the floor, Barry collapsing on top of him. Both of them winced at the harsh impact.

"What the — " Snart stopped himself mid-sentence, gaze drawn to the swing door that had been behind him, which was now sporting a neat, round bullet hole in the middle of the glass. Barry watched his throat work as he swallowed. It was oddly comforting to see him rattled. The worn leather of his jacket was smooth under Barry's hands, and Snart's fast, agitated breath fanned out warm against the side of his neck.

Beside them, the meta turned to the shooter. "That wasn't very nice," she chided, and before he could fire another shot he was out like a light. _Good riddance_ , Barry thought uncharitably, his usual leniency hard to come by for once.

"Are you okay?" he asked Snart, forcing himself not to speed-check the other man for injuries.

"Peachy."

Snart's tone was snappy as ever, but the sarcastic lilt didn't sound quite right, and when his eyes met Barry's, there was so much tangled emotion in the gaze that Barry thought he'd drown in it. He couldn't have looked away if he'd tried.

Across the room, the little girl was crying harder now, even though the mother tried to calm her down, and Barry was sorely tempted to forget protecting his secret and end this whole thing right now, just flash out to grab a pair of power-dampening handcuffs and put them on the meta.

Time-Out turned to Barry. "Your friend's lucky that your reflexes are so good."

Was he imagining it or was there suspicion in her gaze when she looked at him?

A sudden idea came to him, one that he knew Snart would try to talk him out of if he knew what Barry was planning. Maybe he wouldn't have to reveal himself to twenty-eight people, maybe it was enough revealing himself to one. Reluctantly separating himself from Snart, he sat and looked up at her.

He deliberately let the lightning flash in his eyes. "Yeah, good thing my reflexes are pretty fast."

Her hand, already half-raised towards him, hovered in the air, and Barry noted with some satisfaction that she hesitated, no doubt gauging her chances to send him to sleep before he could react.

He pushed on before she decided to take the risk, his tone quiet and emphatic. "You don't have to do this. You're just going to make things worse for yourself. Look, this heist is already a mess. Even if you knock me out, what do you think is going to happen when the other security guards get here? Or the police? You can only send them to sleep one at a time. How long do you think it'll be until someone with a better aim shoots at you?" They both glanced at where the shooter was lying half-propped up against the wall, his gun at his feet. Barry hoped no one else was stupid enough to pick it up. "Just get out of here before the police arrives. There's still time to walk away."

Time-Out swallowed and looked away, fight or flight instincts clearly warring with one another, and Barry only hoped the right one would win.

"And no one would come after me?" she finally asked.

He appreciated the fact that she didn't phrase the question as 'you won't come after me' even when it was obviously what she really wanted to know. He shrugged. "I don't know about no one. I'm pretty sure the police will be looking for you, but they're not really all that effective against people like you all on their own."

Endless seconds ticked by as he waited for her to make her choice. He didn't dare to turn away from her, but he didn't have to see Snart to feel the strain radiating from him. Barry was sure Snart had a contingency plan if what Barry was trying to do failed, just as he was sure that he wasn't going to like whatever Snart would do.

Time-Out straightened up, and the smile on her lips could almost have been sincere if it hadn't been for the little tremor in her hand as she ran her fingers through her hair. "Well, you're right. Today's been a bust. I guess this is goodbye for now. I'm sure I'll see you around."

Barry grimaced at her words, watching her turn and walk through the lobby towards the exit with all the ease of a regular client who'd just been in to wire some transfers. It was only when the doors were swinging shut behind her that everyone started talking over each other, the noise level in the room rising enough to drown out the individual voices

Snart was watching Barry with an expression Barry couldn't quite read. "I can't believe that little speech of yours actually worked. Didn't think anyone ever bought into your 'you don't have to be a criminal' spiel." The distasteful twist of his lips was belied by the way the earlier tension slowly eased out of his body.

Barry huffed out a laugh, the relief making him giddy. "To be honest, I'm a little surprised too," he admitted. Those speeches rarely worked, despite how frequently he tried them.

Snart sat up and pushed himself to his feet, dusting himself off. He seemed to be back to his old self, but his eyes kept darting towards where the bullet had pierced the glass door instead of his chest.

He turned towards Barry with a speculative expression, offering him a hand. "You know she'll be back, right? And she knows your face now."

It would be easy enough to fall back into the old banter, tease Snart about sounding like he was worried about Barry, smile at Snart's no doubt sharp repartee, but after everything that just happened, he was tired of their status quo, wanting to offer a little more honesty instead.

"Yeah, well, maybe it's not always terrible when someone finds out who's under the mask." He gave Snart a significant look, taking the offered hand and letting Snart pull him to his feet. "I haven't really regretted it, so far."

He almost expected Snart to pull back in response, to double down on his lesson of _I'm a criminal and a liar, and I hurt people_ , reminding Barry why trusting him was a bad idea. But maybe he wasn't quite ready to return to the status quo either. He was watching Barry in silence, and the intensity of his gaze left Barry feeling raw and exposed.

"I should get out of here too before the cops arrive." Snart's quiet warning was lacking its usual edge, as if he was reluctant to break that fragile moment between them.

Barry nodded, a wry smile making his lips twitch. "Yeah, sure. I doubt CCPD will be anywhere near as happy to overlook your criminal history as the bank managers are."

It was only when Snart stepped away and pulled back his hand that Barry realized that neither of them had let go until then. His hand abruptly felt empty; he could still sense the phantom touch of Snart's fingers against his, even after the other man had already turned and disappeared in the crowd.

Barry watched him go until the front door swung shut behind him. From outside, the sound of police sirens drew closer; it would only be a matter of minutes until the cops were here. Barry took a deep breath and tried to pull himself together, unable to quite shake off the lingering tangle of emotions.

His phone chimed in his back pocket. When he pulled it out, he expected it to be Cisco or Iris, who must have heard about the hostage situation by now, maybe even Joe.

It turned out to be neither of them but a message from an unknown number. He opened it with a frown, unsure what to expect.

 _If you still want breakfast by the time you get out of there, stop by the old warehouse in Leawood around the corner from the Stadium. I'm told I make the best pancakes this side of the river._

Barry ducked his head, unable to hold back the fond smile. He was reasonably sure that, unless it was a trap, Snart had just asked him on a date – and he figured the chances were good that it was the latter. Luring the Flash into his safe house with promises of pancakes only to set him up seemed a little too _cold_ even for Captain Cold.

He almost missed the arrival of the police until he felt someone's eyes on him and looked up to see Joe coming his way, worry on his face.

Barry winced, suddenly remembering Snart's comments about the cameras and realizing at once that he'd have to field some uncomfortable questions once Joe saw the footage. He gave Joe a little wave while he speed-typed his answer with the other hand. _not sure how long this'll take, but i'll be there :)_

He didn't have to wait long for Snart's response. _We can make it dinner instead._

"You look weirdly happy for someone who was taken hostage this morning," Joe said when he stepped up to him, suspiciously looking at the phone Barry switched off before his foster father could catch a glimpse of the text.

Barry shrugged, trying and failing to bite back the smile. "Let's just say the day's shaping up a lot better than I thought."

End.

!


End file.
